


Everything To Me

by cuteashale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 03:48:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuteashale/pseuds/cuteashale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A misunderstanding leads to a fight that leads to talking that leads to sex. Talking and sex, crazy, right? Also known as the story where Derek's a dope and Stiles tells him as much, they fight, but they figure it out in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything To Me

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a quick drabble about the boys having a dumb fight. As you can see, it got away from me and turned into my longest and smuttiest fic so far. I hope you enjoy!

"You are everything!" Stiles shouts, cheeks flushed with anger, sadness, some emotion that Derek doesn't know how to name.

"You stupid, stupid man." His voice is low and wrecked and when his hands land on Derek's chest they shove, pushing backward, and Derek goes.

"Why would you-" Stiles shakes his head, shoves Derek again. They’ve known each other for three years, been together for one, but- "You still have this fucking ridiculous martyr complex and I-" He cuts off, wordless in his frustration. He doesn’t understand how Derek can be so dense. He’s only ever wanted him. He’s been his first everything and that Derek thought he was suddenly going to want someone else, after everything that they’d been through together – it hurt. 

"I thought-" Derek tried to cut in but Stiles interrupts him before he can even finish the sentence.

"No, you didn't. You didn't think, Derek, or you would have known that I would never, never forget about you. No one is more important to me than you, okay, no one. And if you'd bothered to think for a second, to look inside that big, beautiful head of yours, you would have realized that and I wouldn't have had to come home and tell you."

Derek's face is open and lost and he doesn't know what Stiles wants from him or how he can fix this. He made a mistake. He thought he was saving them by trying to end it. He didn't want to get hurt and he didn't want to tie Stiles down if he didn't want to be tied down. 

They’re trying the long distance thing. It’s new for both of them. Something he’s never considered; an idea that Stiles has never entertained. 

Stiles taught him how to use Skype before he left. He set him up on his computer and drove back home, only to call Derek and make sure everything was working. He’d made him wait for Skype sex, though. 

Said that needed to be something they saved for when they really couldn’t touch each other. Derek had agreed, mostly because he loved the sparkle in Stiles’ eye when he talked about being able to have Skype dates and someone who would talk to him when his roommate was gone, or even when he wasn’t. Someone that wasn’t his dad or Scott to talk to when he was bored out of his mind or needed a break from studying. 

He fumbles for words to a response but stops when Stiles' hands land on his cheeks, palms warm and familiar on his face. It's been so long. It feels like years, millennia, but he knows it’s only been a few months since school started. Since he and Stiles said goodbye inside the loft and Stiles walked out to get in the car with his dad and drive away.

"Derek, I love you. I can't ever not love you. And that you thought I would stop, that I would want to be with her..." Stiles squares his jaw and breathes in deep through the words cloying his throat. “Is this because I missed our date? Because I told you I was sorry. Time got away from me and I just happened to be with her and-. Did you think I was replacing you?”

"I didn't. Stiles, I didn't, I-"

Stiles shushes Derek with two fingers on his lips, leans his weight against him and blinks through the wetness in his eyes.

"It's okay," he says, thumbs stroking the stubble on Derek's cheeks. "Because I could never do that. Just know. I need you to know that I will never leave you. I'm never going to stop loving you, or start wanting someone else. It's just never going to happen. Even though I'm hours away and I don't get to see you as often as I'd like to, I still like you. I spent a year pining from afar; you think I won't do it again?"

Derek shakes his head and his throat feels tight, eyes burning as he looks at Stiles. "I know, Stiles. I know that, I do." And he does. Stiles has made it abundantly clear that Derek's the end of the road for him. He's in his first year of college and he knows what he wants and what he wants is Derek. And to major in law.

Stiles kisses him. Sweeps his tongue between his lips and pushes Derek back into the kitchen counter, reveling in how much he missed this.

"Idiot," he breathes when they part, and grins, his eyes entirely filled with love.

"Your idiot," Derek replies, breathless with wonder at this young man. This young man who’s pushed past every well-crafted and maintained barrier he’d built up until they were nothing more than rubble for Stiles to stand on. This young man who never gave up, who won’t ever give up, because he loves Derek so much.

Stiles' eyes glitter with something warm and adoring. He cradles Derek's face between his hands and smudges his thumbs over his cheeks.

"Yeah,” he says quietly, as though he’s realizing it for the first time, and maybe he is. He’s said it before and he’s say it again: Derek’s the end of the line for him. But sometimes he maybe forgets what that means. 

It means he’s going to have Derek forever. They’re going to have their ups and downs. Their fights and make ups. And through all of it they’re going to have each other. That’s what’s most important and he’s not ever going to forget that. He won’t let Derek forget either. 

“You're all mine, Derek, okay? And I'm yours. So no flirting with the cashier at the store. I know she wants in your pants, babe, I’ve eyed your ass the exact same way."

Derek rolls his eyes a little and slides his hands up the back of Stiles' shirt. "I only want you in my pants."

Stiles laughs, face bright and open, the fear and sadness from earlier a distant memory. "Good answer!" 

He shifts forward, pressing light kisses to Derek’s mouth. “You know I am home for the weekend,” he murmurs, “since you decided it was a good idea to have a crisis today. I could get in your pants right now. If you wanna.”

Derek’s lips tilt up in a smile against Stiles’ and he nods. “You could,” he agrees, hands dragging down Stiles’ back to push down the back of his jeans. 

Beaming and counting on Derek to catch him, Stiles jumps up into his arms and holds on tight. His legs wind around Derek’s waist and Derek’s hands fit snug under his thighs, holding him up as they walk across the loft.

“It’s very convenient that your bed is still over in the corner,” he muses, words muffled by the skin of Derek’s throat where he’s laying kisses. “No stairs to fight with, nothing to trip over. Still wanna fuck you in my dorm room, though. Ricky’s going home in a couple weeks so we wouldn’t have to be sneaky. Think you might wanna come up for a few days? Fuck around on campus? In my room…?”

“You’ll still have to be quiet,” Derek reminds, laying Stiles down and tugging his shirt over his head. “Even if Ricky’s not there.” He bites Stiles’ collarbone, tongue laving over newly bared, salty skin. Stiles tugs at the neck of Derek’s shirt until it’s off and thrown carelessly across the room.

“I can be quiet- ah! Fuck, Derek, not when you do that.” Derek’s laugh rumbles against his chest and Stiles squirms with a pleasant sigh as Derek’s mouth trails lower.

“Mmhm. No you can’t.”

“Can so.”

“Not.”

“So!”

“Not.” Derek punctuates with a sharp bite to Stiles’ hip and Stiles keen, high and wanton. “See?”

“You fight dirty, asshole.” Derek’s grin is so big Stiles can feel it against his skin as he swats the top of Derek’s head, grinning when he looks up at him, eyes narrowed. “I love you.”

Stiles watches Derek’s face soften, his mouth relaxing, eyebrows rising in something that Stiles can only call wonder. He runs his knuckles down Derek’s cheek, over the rough catch of his stubble. “Love you too, Stiles.”

Grinning, Stiles pokes Derek’s nose with his finger and wiggles his hips. “Good. Now if you don’t mind…” He offers a cheeky smile and laughs when Derek yanks down his jeans and his underwear, tossing them who-the-fuck-even-cares where when Derek’s tongue is doing _that_ to his balls. 

“Ohh, fuck. This is so much better than Skype sex,” he gasps, wriggling when Derek mouths wetly up his shaft and sucks him into the heat of his mouth. Stiles’ hips buck greedily, eager after so long with just his fist, a vivid imagination, and Derek’s voice in his ear. This is about eight thousand times better. Derek’s only agreement is a moan around him, but Stiles is too busy groaning his name to even care about anything he might have wanted to say.

Everything is heat and suction and the scrape of stubble against the inside of Stiles’ thighs when Derek swallows him down as far as he can go. He’ll be the first to admit that he has a thing for partially clothed sex, so Derek being almost completely dressed while he is very much not is definitely doing it for him. So is Derek’s talented tongue, though, and the wet heat of his throat wrapped tight around him when he swallows.

He’d be embarrassed by how long he doesn’t last if it weren’t for the fact the telltale grunting around his cock means that Derek couldn’t even wait his turn and is fucking into his fist. He grins a little bit and buries his fingers in Derek’s hair, tugging as he gets closer and closer to tipping straight over the edge. Derek’s tongue does a swirl around his dick before he sucks him back down and that’s it. The end. He’s done. He arches up and comes with a shout, stars sparkling behind his closed eyelids as Derek eagerly swallows him down, bobbing until Stiles’ hips are shifting away, too sensitive for any more. 

Derek’s off of him in a second, shirt pushed up his chest, pants slung low, tight around his upper thighs where he’s pushed them, his cock curled in his fist. He fixes his eyes on Stiles and the quick rise and fall of his chest, the sated look in his eye, and the splotchy flush on his cheeks. 

It doesn’t take him very long to fall over the edge as well, Stiles’ fingertips brushing over the inside of his thigh the only push he needs to go tipping over with a shudder and a groan of Stiles’ name.

“I’d’ve taken care of that,” Stiles slurs, nose wrinkling a little at the splatters of come across his stomach. He can’t complain; he loves Derek’s come whether it’s in his mouth, on his hand, in his ass, or elsewhere. His hand waves vaguely toward Derek’s softening dick but Derek just shrugs and slumps down on top of him. 

“Round two,” he says, and Stiles laughs and threads his hand through Derek’s hair.

“Mmm, yeah. Good thinking, big guy. Take the edge off, last longer. You can fuck me into next week at this rate, hell yeah.” Stiles’ lips are pursed for more words when Derek’s fingers land on his mouth. He crosses his eyes to look down at them and huffs before kissing them sweetly.

“Shush,” Derek mutters, adorably sleepy and capable of only short sentences after coming. It’s why Stiles loves him. Or, part of the reason.

“Yeah, yeah. Nap time?” 

Derek grunts and knocks his head against Stiles’ jaw until he tilts it up so he can nuzzle in close. 

“Nap time,” Derek echoes.

“Hey, wait! You’re going to come up in a couple weeks, right? I never got an actual answer out of you.”

“Yes, Stiles. M’coming up. Gonna come up there right now and smack you if you don’t shut up now.”

“For a guy who just had a real, actual orgasm, in person with his boyfriend, you sure are grouchy.” Derek rolls off of Stiles and flops on his back off to the side, head turned so he can glare at Stiles with absolutely no heat. Stiles just smiles at him and turns on his side, hands folded under his cheek. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy and post-orgasmic.”

Derek tries to glare at him. He really, truly does. But Stiles is smiling so sweetly at him, and he looks so happy as opposed to when he first arrived, that he ends up mirroring Stiles’ smile instead. 

“You’re cuter.”

“Oh hush.”

“You are.” Derek kicks his way out of his jeans and rolls back against Stiles, pulling him in against his chest.

“We’re both cute.”

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
